Burning Again!

Fair warning - I have burbles on the brain again. But not for this post...

Yesterday I took my 'Just one of the reasons why I prefer the night shift' weekday of sleep-free fun to the Exe.

Starting at a rather nippy Dawlish Warren, where there was more wind than forecast and rougher seas than I'd hoped. I scanned and scanned as my feet slowly froze to the concrete by the lifeguards' station, but only a couple of GC Grebes did I see. Hmm. Onward back down and around the Back Path, scattering Moorhens from the grass by the Visitors' Centre, before coming up into the wind again on the Dune Ridge and seeing with no little dismay how much more has been claimed by the hungry waves. Its really not good, folks. Go there, soon. I seriously doubt it'll last another winter.

The seawatching spot has not been entirely eroded yet, and I gave it another go, finding the Slavonian Grebe and a few more Great Crested, but no ducks of any kind. Damn, that wind was cold.. On to the hide, which was amazingly deserted. Funny, you'd think at a low neap tide on a freezing cold weekday there'd be someone there...? ;) Their loss, as the drake American Wigeon was showing very nicely in the sunshine, tarting about on Shutterton Creek at a nice scope range - you could even ID it with bins. Joy. Enjoying getting a decent look, all sat down without the wind and with coffee, I had a sharp lunch and kept my eye out for Goldeneye [well, you never know, right?] in between working through the assorted [and abundant] ducks and waders. Nothing caught the eye, but its all good practice and a reminder if one were needed as to the variety among birds that 'all look the same' :) On a non-bird front, the Common Seal that lives in the Exe was showing well; crashed out on the Bull!

The yank and a few companions then took off and flew upriver a way, dropping down by Cockwood Crossing. If anybody was there, or they'd have had a great view. My attention wandered elsewhere, then later I looked back and they were gone. Into the main group of Wigeon, I assumed, failing to refind the American. Turns out not so - off to Bowling Green! Ducks, what will you do with them, eh? I headed back for another go at the sea, this time I managed to find the female Surf Scoter - riding the big choppy waves pretty much opposite me! The sun having moved round more, it was a nice if intermittent view - dark duck on bright grey-green sea.

Right, time still to be used, so I went for the hat-trick. Red-breasted Goose, this time your multi-coloured ass is mine! Or so I hoped.

Passing Starcross I saw a flock of Brents in the hundreds on the golf course thing, and duly muttered but then as I passed Powderham Castle I got a surprise! Two waders flew low over the road from the estuary to the big boggy bit - Snipe? No wait, dark pointed tails! Jacks!!! Ho-ly shit.. I've never seen more than one at a time before. Only once two in a day. :D [I've mentioned my Theory about Jack Snipe - they're Quantum Waders, and only exist if you're not expecting them. Its like the cat in a box, but the other way around.*]

Walking up the levee from Powderham Bend, the wind was bracing, the Avocets pretty, and the Exe fringed with a wide band of ice. The gentle sound of Brent Geese carried down from Turf Bend, then above it as a flock best described as "Oh, that's a lot" picked up and plonked down again. The Brents were alternating between grazing [on the far side of the railway line, where you can't see them, of course] and loafing about on the river. No RBG, naturally. When they stayed put for more than 30 seconds I gave them a count and got about 1100, which is pretty good for here. Groups were coming and going almost constantly, mostly staying in the vicinity, but here came a good hundred or more from downriver. I scanned the flock again and there right in the middle, all pretty in the sunshine, was the Red-breasted Goose. Gotcha!

Soon enough, the RBG was up and back out of sight, so I went on to the pub. No, not like that unfortunately. Before I reached the Turf, I nailed the Water Pipit that was lurking with at least 15 other pipits in the soggy paddock of a field - it ducked behind a tussock, but not quickly enough! I plonked down on the wonderful platform and had a good look at the interesting banded riverscape - water, ice and mud. Plenty of waders on display, with R-B Mergansers displaying. A Robin came up to offer violence if it wasn't fed - I only had chocolate left, which it didn't seem too impressed by, I have to say, though I remained un-savaged.

Several amazingly confiding Redshank [the words 'confiding' and 'Redshank' just don't go together, I can't count how many times one of those twitchy noisy gits has vexed my attempts to see things...] came right up to the platform, picking about unconcerned by the people {for it wasn't just me sitting quietly} like they were plastic duckies or something [["Must be escapes!" ;) ]]. Persistence did pay off in the end, with a pair of Goldeneye far far away on the Clyst. Nice through the Big Scope anyway. :)

Birding can be a pain. Missing things due to looking the wrong way or whatever, getting cold and wet [or hot and dank], seeing sod all, etc. etc. Sometimes, though, things just start clicking and that's when its just soo much fun. This was such a time - like the title implies, I was on fire. That Water Pipit. "Hmm, this is where a Water Pipit has often lurked.. Oh, there it is!" A day to cherish in the memory - for all the others when the Goddess of Birding has just dumped a bucket of cold water [I hope] over me...

In a total contrast to my near solitary time at the Warren [though to be fair on [Dawlish Warren Birders] there was Proper Work being done, with GPS thingies and everything], I kept meeting birders and PWBs who wanted to chat, ask me what that is, or enquire what was about. Not that I'm complaining - I'm always secretly flattered that anyone assumes I know what the hell I'm talking about [Should I admit that?]. Plus, its amazing what you can learn from talking to people - did you know that the winter of '64 was particularly harsh in France? Or that an onshore wind is unhelpful when fishing for Flounder? I do now. Several more people now also know that when they get the bloke in the silly hat talking he just goes on and on and on and on.. You think my posts are bad? Try talking to me... ;D

Speaking of going on, I do have something to say, but now is not the time. I will say that today I was working, and then it was all rainy and dank and I just couldn't drag myself outside to even look for grebes... Scandalous. Lots of finches in the Garden, still.

[[*The premise being that you can know what something is or where it is, but not both**. So with Jack Snipe; if you're looking for them, they can't be seen, but if you're not, they can.***

**Apologies to anyone who actually knows about physics, btw.

***On the Discworld****, they would of course be made entirely of Surprise.

****If you don't know what I mean, you're not reading the right books. Go, seek, find, read; your life will be better. Trust me on this.]]